Meant for Each Other Page 6

  "But they won't find us. They've never discovered our hiding place yet." She felt his hands gather her hair to wring the water from it. His touch made the blood pound in her ears, and she actually thought she might faint.

  "Do you think it's wise to provoke John?" she asked weakly, hoping to distract him-and herself. "You know how much he hates being bested by any one."

  Wade's fingers twisted in the glistening brown strands, which gave off the faint flowery scent of her shampoo. "That's a strange question coming from someone who thought nothing of tipping him over in the kayak a few minutes ago. Why this sudden concern for him?" he drawled. "I noticed you and Dad took your time about getting back to camp tonight. Care to tell me what that was all about?" His question might have sounded casual, but she heard the steel in his tone.

  "We were watching the beavers."

  "But that doesn't exactly preclude conversation, does it?" His question was rhetorical; he obviously knew very well something had gone on between her and Clyde. Wade had always been too observant for her peace of mind. He'd certainly know she was lying if she pretended not to understand him.

  "As a matter of fact, John did come up in the discussion." As she spoke, she tried to back away so he'd release her hair, but he didn't.

  "There was one, then."

  Taking a shallow breath, she said, "He's worried about his family, like every father.''

  "What did he say to make you so quiet at dinner?"

  Kathryn didn't dare reveal that their conversation had centered mainly on Wade. "Nothing specific. But our talk made me realize that being a parent is a tremendous responsibility.''

  In the distance she could hear Laurel yelling at John to wait for her. Already their kayaks had touched shore.

  "Did he tell you John's in love with my fiancée?"

  When Kathryn looked away, he muttered, "I thought so.”

  "Actually I figured it out for myself at dinner last night."

  "John has always been transparent."

  Dry mouthed, she whispered, "What are you going to do?"

  "What do you think I should do?" he countered softly.

  "When you picked me up at the airport," she lashed out, suddenly panicking "you made it clear you didn't want to discuss your personal life with me.”

  "Things have changed since last evening. Don't you agree?"

  "W-why don't we sneak toward shore and surprise them?" she asked instead, incapable of answering his question. The question that lay at the heart of her grief.

  "Why don't you answer me?” he demanded forcefully. When she refused to say anything else, his fingers seemed to tighten in her hair. "Why does the thought of John's involvement with Amy create such alarm in you? It's not so surprising. They're both young, the same age, and they have a good deal in common."

  She swallowed hard. "Did I say I was alarmed?" "You don't have to say anything. Your body's doing it for you." A strange smile illuminated his face.

  "I'd like to hear how you think I should solve my dilemma. It's no secret that you and I have always had an affinity for each other and that we've often shared similar views." He paused. "You know, I used to rely on your opinions, especially about what other people were thinking, how they felt. I want your ideas about this situation with John."

  "I haven't been around for five years, so you're asking the wrong person.”

  "Why do you feel ashamed to admit there's a bond between us that has nothing to do with time or distance?" His voice had taken on a seductive quality, which confused her.

  "I'm not ashamed." Her voice wobbled, as much from the insistent caress of his hands in her hair as anything else.

  She heard the tempo of his breathing change. "I honestly believe you're frightened. Why?"

  "Don't be absurd. But I am worried that if we stay hidden any longer, John and Laurel will get upset. I refuse to be responsible for creating friction if I can help it.''

  Tossing her head so he'd have to let go of her hair, she darted through the trees toward the two figures searching the beach for signs of her and Wade. Waiting till their backs were turned, she raced for the closest kayak and shoved it into the water. Once she was inside she yelled, ''Thanks for the transportation, guys!" Then she started paddling madly back to the camp.

  She heard John's bark of disbelief followed by Laurel's laughter, and suddenly John was on her trail in the other kayak. Midway across he drew alongside her and slapped the paddle in the water, practically swamping her. "That'll teach you to play around with the big boys."

  "I think you've forgotten what a big girl I am," she baited him, relieved that he still wanted to play. Using her paddle, she gave the water a resounding slap of her own, but the splash wasn't nearly as spectacular. He mocked her efforts, and his grin was the last thing she saw before he overturned her kayak.

  Getting into a kayak without tipping it was one thing. Crawling out of it, upside down, underwater was another, and for some reason she was finding it particularly difficult to extricate herself. After several seconds she began to worry because her tennis shoe seemed to be caught. No matter which way she twisted, she couldn't pull herself loose.

  Just as she began to feel light-headed, a sure pair of hands freed her foot and she was propelled to the surface with astonishing speed.

  She drank in gulps of air before slumping against her rescuer, momentarily spent by the ordeal and weak with fright. "Thanks John," she sighed when she could catch her breath. "I was starting to panic."

  "You're safe now," he answered hoarsely. Only it was Wade's voice that resonated through her system, Wade's strong body absorbing the convulsive tremors of hers beneath the water. Her eyes flew open.

  "Are you all right, Aunt Kathryn?" John and Laurel cried in unison, swimming up to her and Wade. Verging on hysteria, Kathryn put her hands against Wade's chest and pushed herself away, forcing a smile to her lips as she treaded water.

  "I'm fine,"she assured them, avoiding Wade's unsettling gaze.

  "I'm sorry, Aunt Kathryn," John murmured solemnly. "I thought you were swimming underwater to get away from me."

  "That was my intention." She winked.

  Laurel still looked upset. ''What happened?''

  "Her shoe wouldn't clear the lip of the opening," Wade explained grimly.

  John's expression sobered even more. "I had no idea you were still underneath.”

  "If it had been you who overturned, I would have thought the same thing,” she said in an attempt to alleviate his guilt. "Remind me to remove my shoes the next time I get the urge to steal your kayak."

  John stared hard at Wade. ''Thank God you saw what was happening!"

  Kathryn couldn't tolerate any more emotion. "Come on, Laurel. Let's beat these guys in a water fight before we tum in." She felt safe in suggesting it, since they were only about thirty feet from shore, so the water was fairly shallow at this point. "But this time no tricks and no weapons. Hands and feet only!” To emphasize her words, she chopped the water with the edge of one hand, sending out a spray that soaked all of them afresh.

  "You're on!" Laurel laughed and joined in, imitating Kathryn's actions with effective results.

  "You little devil!" John proceeded to dunk his sister, but their playful antics made no impact on Kathryn, who could feel the tension emanating from Wade like a tangible thing.

  His face was hard, emotionless. "I don't know about you, but I've had all the water sport I can handle for one night." With that quelling remark, he struck out for shore, cleaving the water with lightning speed.

  Needing to channel the energy building inside her before it exploded, Kathryn joined Laurel in her playful fracas with John. Five minutes later he'd had enough, and they worked their way to shore with the kayaks, completely exhausted.

  Alice and Clyde were sitting by the fire when they got back. At first Kathryn was afraid Wade might have said something about her near-drowning. But judging from their relaxed quiet mood, she could see that wasn't the case. She breathed a little more
easily.

  While Alice passed out mugs of hot chocolate, Clyde doused the embers of the fire for the night.

  Kathryn saw no sign of Wade and assumed he'd gone to his tent, something else to be grateful for.

  After washing her mug, she hugged Alice, then muttered good-nights to everyone else. She hurried to her tent by the light of a huge white moon shining overhead. It was going to be a long night....

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THOUGHTS OF WADE and the closeness they'd once shared prevented Kathryn from falling asleep for hours, despite her exhaustion. Consequently she didn't waken until eleven the next morning. She discovered she'd been lying on top of her sleeping bag because the tent was so warm.

  Except for birdsong, everything was quiet. When she stepped outside, she saw that the boat was missing and realized she must be the only one still in camp. Taking advantage of the solitude, she heated some water on the Coleman stove for a sponge bath, then dressed in a clean pair of shorts and T-shirt. To keep the hair out of her face, she fashioned it into two ponytails, one over each ear; she didn't bother putting on makeup but sprayed herself liberally with mosquito repellent. Since she was hungry, she decided to cook a fabulous lunch and surprise everyone when they returned to camp.

  Occasionally a boat drove into the little bay while she was slicing the onions and peppers for steak fajitas. She hoped she wouldn't have to put up with an other visit from those guys in the ski boat. But then she remembered how effectively Wade had dealt with them and decided she didn't have to worry.

  Smiling to herself at the fierceness he'd shown, she walked over to the cooler to get the tortillas. When she lifted her head, Wade was in her line of vision. He was strolling up the beach, and she found herself staring not only at the symmetry of his movements, but at his well-muscled body clad only in a pair of white cutoffs, which accentuated his deep tan.

  She was so mesmerized it took her a second to realize he was alone. Flustered, she hurried back to the Coleman stove and slapped several tortillas on the grill pretending to be too occupied to notice his approach. "Whatever it is smells fantastic. When do we eat?"

  Wade was standing only a few feet away.

  "Right now if you'd like." She finally dared to brave a glance but regretted the impulse when she saw the way he was appraising her face and figure. The intensity of his regard ignited a fire inside her. "How long have you been up?" she managed to ask.

  "About an hour."

  His disinclination to talk made her nervous. "Where are the others?"

  "Laurel went waterskiing with friends. Dad and Allie are out in the boat observing nature, and far as I know, John's still in his tent."

  "In that case I'll call him and we'll eat."

  Wade shook his head. "Let him sleep. He's still a growing boy."

  If he was sending her a signal that he, Wade, had long since passed beyond that stage, then as far as Kathryn was concerned, he was wasting his breath. She had stopped thinking of Wade as a schoolboy years ago. That had been the problem all along. He might have been five years younger, but mentally and emotionally, she had always felt he was her equal. And when they had started making love, he became the tutor and she the pupil.

  "Kathryn? You didn't hear what I said, did you?"

  Heat stained her cheeks. "What?" She was furious that her thoughts had once more centered on him to the exclusion of all else.

  "I was asking if you'd like to go for a ride in the boat when the folks get back. If we're lucky we might see some moose over by the point."

  It was a perfectly reasonable suggestion, and if the situation had been different, she would have welcomed an opportunity to explore the lake. But the bittersweet pain of being with Wade had rekindled that once familiar ache, the sharp sensation of a desire that craved assuagement. She felt far more vulnerable now than she had five years ago.

  "I think the whole family would enjoy that. Maybe by the time we're finished eating, Laurel will be back and she and John will want to come with us."

  "Maybe." But his tone conveyed that he knew she was afraid to be alone with him and, worse, that he found her reaction amusing.

  "How many fajitas would you like?" She reached for a paper plate, amazed she could still function more or less normally.

  After a strained pause he said, "Two ought to do it."

  "Sit down at the table and I'll serve you."

  He drew a couple of colas from the drinks cooler before following her suggestion.

  "They're hot, so be careful you don't burn yourself.'' Once she'd carried his meal to the table, she fixed another plate for herself and sat down opposite him.

  Though there was an uncomfortable silence between them, he seemed to be eating with considerable enjoyment, and she derived a ridiculous amount of pleasure from that. "These are delicious," he verified minutes later, raising his head. "I want the recipe."

  "I'll give it to your wife for a wedding present." She had to keep reminding herself that Wade belonged to someone else.

  "Much as she'd appreciate it," he countered smoothly, "I was thinking of the cook I'm going to hire when my dude ranch is operational. Good meals are one of the critical features. The success of the whole enterprise will depend on repeat business, and food like this will help persuade people to come back for more."

  Wade never said what he didn't mean, which caused her to cherish his compliment. It was frightening how badly she wanted his approval. "I'm glad you find the food to your taste."

  He stared at her, an odd expression on his face.

  "You learned to make these in California, didn't you?"

  For some reason she began to feel uneasy. "That's right. We entertained various members of the faculty and visiting professors on a regular basis, so I was continually challenged to come up with something different.''

  "Do you cook anything else as good as these?" She laughed a trifle nervously, because he was being so serious. "You really want to know?"

  "I wouldn't have asked otherwise." As he spoke, he seemed to find her mouth of inordinate interest. His scrutiny made it hard to concentrate.

  "I suppose it depends on your preference."

  "What did Philip like?"

  "Philip?" She repeated the name in a daze.

  His jaw tensed. "Your ex-husband," he reminded her unnecessarily. "What was his preference?"

  She took a deep breath. "I don't recall exactly."

  "Most wives would know the answer to a question like that."

  "Maybe," she murmured, and looked away, feeling the usual rush of guilt for having hurt Philip. "But he has gourmet tastes and likes a variety of exotic dishes.''

  She was relieved when Wade dropped the subject and went over to the stove to get another fajita. But when he came back to the table he said, "Did you meet the man you got involved with at one of your dinner parties?"

  "What did you say?" she demanded indignantly.

  The fork she was holding slipped from her fingers and clattered against the table.

  "You heard me," he replied without sounding at all disturbed by her anger. "Is that how it happened?"

  "How what happened?"

  "In the truck on the way to Afton, I asked if you'd had an affair, and you didn't give me a satisfactory answer."

  "Because a question like that doesn't deserve one," she replied, white-faced, and rose from the table. But he put a detaining hand on her arm, forcing her to remain where she was.

  "You're still the most attractive woman I've ever met, but the breakup of your marriage has done its damage. Maybe divorce wasn't the solution, after all. Would you go back to him if he'd have you?"

  "Who?"

  "Philip, of course."

  "No!" On that point she'd been honest with every one else in the family and could be no less with him. "Does that answer your question?"

  His fingers tightened painfully on her wrist. "Because you're in love with someone else?" His eyes seared hers, demanding a response.

  "If I am," she retorted angrily
, "it's absolutely none of your business.''

  "Are you?" he persisted, refusing to be put off. Kathryn had had all she could take, and the physical contact was making matters worse. "All right!" she practically shouted at him. "If it'll satisfy this unhealthy interest of yours in my love life, I'll tell you. Yes! I'm in love with someone else!"

  Too late she realized what she'd done. She'd told him the truth; couldn't deny her feelings any longer. She was in love with Wade. The soul-searching kind of love that would haunt her for the rest of her life.

  A stillness crept over him and the skin on his cheeks went a dull gray beneath his tan. "The baby wasn't Philip's was it?" His hand had become a vise around her wrist. "Did you fall in love with a married man? Is that why coming to Afton is such a penance, be cause you can't be with your lover? Is that the reason Philip won't give you any more alimony?"

  "Let me go, Wade," she said through clenched teeth, stunned at the depth of his faulty suspicions and at the intensity of his response. He acted as if her answer mattered to him. And that was absurd, considering that he was in love with another woman. "I've had all the cross-examination I'm going to take from you."

  Adrenaline lent her strength and she jumped up from the table, wresting her hand from his grasp. But she hadn't counted on the momentum propelling her backward.

  He cried her name as she crashed into the camp chair and landed flat on her back in the dirt. Somewhere in another part of the camp she heard John call out, but nothing registered except the feel of Wade's hands framing her face.

  "Are you all right?" The concern in his voice be lied his earlier hostility. Confused by his contradictory behavior and the touch of skin against skin, she pushed his hands away and got to her feet.

  "I'm fine,"she said on a shallow breath, wiping the dirt from her shorts. She was furious that their little altercation had disturbed John, who was now racing toward them. Things had become so complicated that all she wanted to do was run away. She needed to be alone somewhere, to come to terms with this impossible situation.

  "What happened?" John looked from Kathryn to Wade, who had plucked the chair from the dirt and was examining it. "I heard shouting."